


Weakness

by orionstarlight



Series: A Charred Deck of Cards [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, F/M, Hisoka's Bungee Gum Nen Ability (Hunter X Hunter), Near Death, Revenge, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, no beta we die like men, phantom troupe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionstarlight/pseuds/orionstarlight
Summary: “Case 507. I’d like to negotiate the terms of the agreement.”A little hustle and changing of recipients and you’re put through to the woman who came to your home. “What terms would you like to negotiate?”“I refuse to kill Hisoka Morow. Chrollo Lucilfer will be taken care of,” you say calmly, ending the call.-----You're given one simple mission: Kill two Phantom Troupe members. Can you do it?Takes place after the events of 'Insanity', so make sure to read that first :)
Relationships: Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter)/Reader
Series: A Charred Deck of Cards [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951123
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	1. Negotiate the Terms

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe i really wrote a second part to the first fic but clearly you all enjoyed it so i thought what the hell let's just do it -- you may notice some fun easter eggs in this one so i hope you enjoy it !

* * *

You play with the Hunter Exam Number you haven’t touched in a long while, trying to understand why you’ve kept it. The thing barely holds any meaning to you and yet you’ve kept it like a childhood toy. Maybe you think if you fiddle with it enough it’ll give you something in return for nearly dying when you tried to complete the Exam.

You told him you’d never taken it — why, you can’t possibly understand. Maybe you thought lying would somehow guarantee you anonymity, security.

You haven’t seen him for about two months since the night (and day) the two of you spent together before he disappeared on ‘business’. He left you a phone number for emergencies you know you really shouldn’t call. Really, you shouldn’t, but you kind of have to, and he’s not going to be very happy to hear the why.

“You finally called. How exciting.”

“I didn’t call to fuck over the phone.” You’re sure you can hear him pouting on the other end of the line. Do men really only think about one thing?

“Then why bother calling at all?”

He’s acting unbothered all because he isn’t getting what he wants and you’d punch him through the phone if you could, this part of his character one you really want to beat the living shit out of sometimes. Still, you remain calm.

“Because I want to warn you. Keep away from Chrollo Lucilfer for a while.”

You end the call, looking at the number on your phone. You think it was ominous enough to make him tell Chrollo that he’s not safe, which is, unfortunately, exactly what you need from him. You glance over at your Exam Number that lies next to a business card.

_ How in the hell are you going to kill two of the most feared members of the Phantom Troupe? _

* * *

  
  


Two nights ago a woman had knocked on your door, adjusting a pair of glasses that were far too small for her face. She invited herself in before you could refuse, which means you’d guessed right when wondering who she was.

She’d asked simply, not going further than the entryway, if you’d taken the Hunter Exam and passed. You told her you had. And then she handed you a file and left, leaving you in a rather compromising position when it came to refusing the job — simply put, you had no chance to refuse.

You’d let yourself glance at the file before going to bed, but the words ELIMINATION: HISOKA MOROW AND CHROLLO LUCILFER had made you sick instead. Not only was it impossible to kill one member of the Phantom Troupe, you had to kill two, and one of which you’d made the mistake of sleeping and being vulnerable with. 

You could think of no other words to describe your predicament other than Royally Fucked. You might as well have those words branded on your forehead.

Right now you’re trying to make some coffee to wake yourself up, but every time you think about it your heart beats a little faster, until you spill the scalding coffee all over the counter and your wings come out in a rush of anger, knocking you off balance.

“Fuck! God fucking damn it!”

You clasp your hands together and rest your face against them as you take some deep breaths. Even trying to keep your mind blank is impossible, Hisoka’s voice taunting you as if he were right in front of you.

_ Do you really think you’re good enough to kill me? Someone who lies and cheats and steals to get what they want? At least I’m honest in my escapades. _

You leave the mess as is and take the business card in your fingers. You know that you’re walking into a room that’s on fire, but you can’t stop yourself from dialling the number and waiting for the little click to let you know you’ve reached the right line.

“Case 507. I’d like to negotiate the terms of the agreement.”

A little hustle and changing of recipients and you’re put through to the woman who came to your home. “What terms would you like to negotiate?”

“I refuse to kill Hisoka Morow. Chrollo Lucilfer will be taken care of,” you say calmly, ending the call. Well. That was probably one of the more foolish things you’ve done recently.

You leave the coffee as it is, opting to take care of it another time, and drinking coffee at night when you can’t sleep anyway probably isn’t going to help you very much. You sigh and make your way to the sofa, turning the TV on so your brain can turn to mush. Your work your Number through your fingers, thinking about how easily you could have lied to that woman like you had to him, but you hadn’t. You’d accepted the task no questions asked.

You could have sworn they’d promised to leave you alone. You knew you’d have bad luck for the rest of your life when you passed it the very first time you took it, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to sabotage your chances. You’d left a bloody mess, and now years later you’re not doing any better. 

“You should be more careful about where you fall asleep. All sorts of things come out to play at night.”

His tone isn’t friendly in the slightest, your suspicions confirmed the moment he starts choking you in a way you know isn’t meant to turn you on and when it looks like you’re going to pass out, he throws you across the room right to where you dropped the coffee mug earlier. You’re too concerned with trying to breathe to worry about the cuts on your skin, your spine already in the process of rearranging itself.

“You’re insane,” you gasp, holding onto your side. 

You just manage to dodge his card attack before it hits you right in the eyes, coming back with a counterattack from your wings, straining as you try and predict where he’s going to land every time he takes off. You want to tell him the truth of the matter but he’s not giving you a chance, which means there’s only one thing left for you to do.

You stop defending yourself, forcing your Nen away, letting him cut you up into all and any pieces he desires. You’re dying, you already know it, and he’s not going to save you. He’s going to finish you off, just like he so desired those two months ago.

He throws his last card.

_ I refuse to kill Hisoka Morow. I refuse to kill him. I refuse, I refuse, I refuse. Even if he kills me first. _

“Refuse?” You open your eyes to see he’s just caught it with his Bungee Gum. You smile half-heartedly. Seems you were speaking out loud. “Since when do Hunters refuse?”

“Oh, you know. Never. But better you kill me than some inexperienced rookie.” He’s disappearing right in front of your very eyes and you realise welcoming death is so much easier than you thought it would be. It feels nice. Safe. “You owe me one now.”

You stop breathing.

  
  
  


A strike across the face has you up again, coughing up the blood in your lungs. You blindly reach out for something to hold onto, throwing up everything inside you that is blocking your airways having lost control over anything else.

“That burns. Stop.” Hisoka lifts your head for you and you see that the something you’d chosen to hold onto was his thigh, your Nen having burned him subconsciously. You’re not exactly sorry. 

You spit out some more blood. “Fuck you.”

His hand hasn’t left your face and he forces you to look him in the eyes. “So you’re confident you can kill Chrollo but not me? Definitely not who I would have hedged my bets on, but after tonight maybe I can see the reasoning.”

He licks his lips and without breaking contact, you move your hand a little to the right. The two of you stare at each other until you decide to speak.

“Really? From nearly killing me?” He smiles helplessly so you put a little pressure into your hold. He grabs your wrist.

“You lied to me. You said you weren’t a Hunter and that you’d never taken the exam in the first place. But this little thing tells a different story.”

He flips around your Number in his fingers before holding it up to you, 44 shining right back at you. You might not have the best eyesight right now, but you’ve been fiddling with it for so long you know exactly what it looks like.

“Lying guaranteed me anonymity.”

“Lying guaranteed you nothing. You just assumed it did.” 

You don’t have time to argue with him right now. You have a maximum of twelve hours to get away before someone shows up to eliminate you. Just because you agreed to kill one of your two targets doesn’t mean they’re going to let you go that easy, which pretty much means that either you kill Chrollo first or they kill you. Plus, twelve hours is being generous.

Before you move, you take a glance at him. Something isn’t adding up. 

“How did you get here so quickly? I only called you a few hours ago.” Everything hurts all over but you manage to stand up, be it on shaky legs. He just smiles like he’s waiting for someone else to answer the question.

“He had some help.” You grab onto Hisoka’s arm as you stumble at the sound of another voice, glancing in the direction of the front door. Chrollo Lucilfer stares back at you, twiddling your Hunter License in his fingers. “Impressive Nen. I haven’t seen anything quite like it before.”

“I figured you wouldn’t mind if I brought company,” Hisoka murmurs in your ear, which earns him a punch to the face. He’s gotten far too friendly for your liking. 

“I do mind.”

“I’m only here because Hisoka told me it would be a waste of time to kill you. He was right, of course, but it seems you now have a considerable weakness. The both of you, in fact.” You look away from Chrollo and turn towards Hisoka who is currently holding onto the side of his face that met with your fist.

“I didn’t kill you even though that was my intention. Going soft on you clearly makes you a weakness.”

A weakness? Him to you you don’t doubt, but you to him? How could that ever be possible? 

_ “I’m always in a position to negotiate,” you whisper, placing a hand on his cheek. He looks so vulnerable for a moment it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. _

Damn him. You push him away from you and walk up to Chrollo, facing him head-on. You can’t kill him now, but you also know he won’t be killing you, meaning he came here to negotiate. Hisoka probably convinced him to let him have some fun with you first, though, and you’re definitely going to get him back for that.

“If either one of you isn’t going to finish me off, then why are you still here?”

When Chrollo smiles, it’s different. It’s warm at first glance, but the longer you look at it, you know it’s meant to soften you up and get rid of your worries. It’s dangerous because it’s not easy to see through if you’re not trained.

“Isn’t it obvious? I thought you’d like to be on the team. That way-”

“No thank you.”

There’s nothing for you in the Phantom Troupe. A bunch of master thieves living with a false sense of security and killing people left and right when they feel like it — that’s not the market you’re aiming for.

“You didn’t tell me she was stupid,” he says, looking behind you.

Your skin itches and they’re out before you know it. You and Nen have always had a fickle relationship. “Stupid is a relative term.”

His eyes glisten as your wings reflect in them and you know he aches to touch them. You haven’t let anyone touch them since they manifested, and certainly not since they grew and were able to detach feathers so they’d crystalise. It took you years to get to a point like this with them and you’re not about to let just anyone touch them like you’re some circus freak.

“You’re getting me excited.”

He just manages to avoid the feathers you throw, one of them cutting his cheek as he dodges. Not much of him is like Hisoka, but his personality isn’t difficult to determine either. You know he wants you to join the Troupe because it’ll be easier to keep an eye on you, but that’s just not going to happen, which means the two of you need to reach a compromise, fast.

Hisoka’s hand on your shoulder has your wings gone in an instant in fear of burning him, but he doesn’t look hurt in the slightest. “I don’t share, Chrollo.”

You look at him from the side of your eye but you can’t discern the emotion on his face. Even his touch is strange to you, like a thousand bugs are crawling on your skin. Whatever he’s feeling, you’re feeling it too.

“We’re just talking. No need to get antsy.” He hands you your License and you take it back with haste. You still don’t know what he’s going to ask you in return for your life. “Anyway, a deal needs to be made. Perhaps you’d like to make a suggestion?”

The expression on his face says it all. He’s not interested in playing along this time.

“Suit yourself,” sighs Chrollo, starting to walk about the room that looks like there’s been a bar-fight.

You’re not a fan of the way he’s making himself completely at home, boots crushing pieces of glass and ceramic, leaving you an even bigger mess to deal with later. His presence makes you uneasy, a pit in your stomach growing and growing. If you could, you’d wipe that smug look right off his face.

“This situation is not as simple to deal with as I thought it would be. Good grief… here I thought I could go home once you said yes, but you’re too stubborn to know what’s good for you I see.”

“I think not killing each other is enough. I don’t see why we need any more terms.”

“You don’t see why?” 

The look that greets you is nothing compared to the aura of Malice that targets you and no matter how hard Hisoka’s hand digs into your shoulder, you can’t find yourself capable of looking away. You’ll face him and you’ll survive. You won’t surrender.

“Don’t lose yourself,” he whispers, but the fire burning in your eyes is too great. You want him to leave right now.

You take a few steps, your eyes never once wavering. He reaches out with a hand to draw you closer, but he doesn’t have to. You’re walking over out of your own volition, simply begging him to show you just what he’s capable of. 

You don’t even back away when he pulls a Ben Knife on you and it pierces your skin. You choose to come so close to him that you yourself are surprised he hasn’t finished the job, but there’s no turning back now.

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a man.”

“At least I didn’t kill myself to prove a point.” The knife leaves your body and you already know you’re bleeding out. You’ll be falling in a matter of seconds, so you do the only thing you can.

You tear the sleeve on his right arm to reveal his spider tattoo and clasp it firmly, burning the skin it’s attached too. If he cares about the group so much then you’ll leave him a permanent reminder of just how easily you refused a position from him. He doesn’t deserve to leave here unscathed.

“I really liked this shirt,” he sighs. “Oh well.”

A hand stops the blade aimed at your heart. You’re on the verge of losing your sight but you don’t miss his smirk as he takes a glance at you from the corner of his eye.

_ A considerable weakness. _


	2. There’s Still Time

* * *

“Don’t try to get up. I don’t want you throwing up blood all over me.”

You don’t listen and when your feet touch cold stone, you know something’s wrong, and you just narrowly avoid getting blood on Hisoka — you really don’t want to get beat up again just as you’re recovering.

He forces you back onto the bed. “You never stop to listen, do you? Now you can barely stand and my hand is absolutely destroyed as a result of trying to save you. Really, I thought Hunters were supposed to be smart.”

“Take the exam and then we’ll talk,” you say, wiping your face. “Where am I?”

“Spider’s web.” Your throat goes dry as you look around the bare walls of what probably serves as their infirmary, wondering how the hell it’s so warm in a place that looks this cold. “Back so soon?”

You turn your head towards the door, a pink-haired girl standing with a sewing pad attached to her wrist staring back at you. “Came to check on her stitches. Boss doesn’t want her dead.”

“I’m fine,” you snap, although that is the last thing you are. She seems pretty ticked off by your commentary on her state and you guess that she was the one to put you back together. “Really, I’m fine, just… tired.”

“Bound to happen when you nearly die twice.” You go to punch him again but he manages to catch it this time. Your reflexes aren’t too sharp yet, then, but at least the pink-haired girl is smiling at you.

“I see why you chose her.”

She closes the door behind her and you whip your head to look at Hisoka, snarling at him why he opts for an ‘I didn’t do anything look’. 

“Stop looking at me like that. I’ll punch you.”

“Counting on it.”

You don’t like being out of commission, but there’s not much you can do considering the damage you sustained. The only thing you really want to do is rest, but with him sitting right next to you, you can’t think straight. There’s something he’s hiding from you, probably because you’re not going to react too well to what he has to say.

“You made a deal on my behalf, didn’t you?”

He starts shuffling the deck he’s holding. “You did call me predictable. I felt inclined to live up to the name.”

“What. Did you. Agree to?”

He rolls his eyes and stands up, not at all taking this conversation seriously. Sure, you might be out of commission, but you don’t need to stand if you really want to kill him. You’ll give him five seconds to start explaining.

“I need to retake the Hunter exam. I shouldn’t be long, I think up to a month at most, but hiring someone in my place would take too much effort and would be far too risky. Would you mind filling in in case they need the whole group while I’m gone?”

He’s insane. Like certifiably insane.

“Are you completely and utterly insane? I can’t just join an organisation whose leader I’m supposed to kill. Idiot!”

“Troupe members aren’t allowed to fight. That’ll play into your advantage. That and the fact that the group rarely gets called together. Right now it’s just you, me, Machi and the Boss.” Do they all call him Boss? Well, he’s not getting that treatment from you.

“Okay. Two questions then. One: When do you leave? Two: How long have I been here?”

“Two weeks. Three weeks.”

A three-week-long coma in a place you can’t call your own. You can see your License and the emergency bag you keep hidden in case you need to get going, so clearly he thought ahead before he brought you here.

You pick up the top card from the deck he’s just finished shuffling. “Let’s say I agree.” You place it back in his deck. “I know nothing about how things work here. Do you really think I’m capable of the things the rest of you are?”

“When you’re going in for the kill then yes. But you hold back too much.” He holds up the Ten of Spades. “Yours?”

The Four of Diamonds appears in your hand seemingly from nowhere. He looks almost impressed by so simple a trick, which almost makes the time you spent learning it worth it. With a flick of your wrist, it’s gone and Hisoka places the deck on the table beside you.

“You know, three weeks in bed is really not good for my legs. Do you still think I’ll be able to move them?” If you have to take his place for a month then you’re going to have some fun with him first. What’s so wrong with a little teasing?

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he says, but nevertheless places a hand on your thigh. His fingers flit up and down, dancing a delicate tango. 

Nearly three months without getting laid for you. It was fine before but now that you’ve had a taste, you want the whole meal. You can’t guarantee he’s been as abstinent as you, but then you don’t know how likely he is to get any free time as a Troupe member.

“Did you miss me that much?”

“Miss you? I didn’t miss you at all,” you say, lying through your teeth. He chuckles darkly, face inches away from yours — he knows you’re lying. 

You’re still recovering from some relatively deep wounds and your eyesight isn’t that good but you’ve already made the decision, so there’s no point in turning back now, no matter how much pain it’s going to put you in. You’re sure he can even it out with pleasure.

“I might hurt you.”

“Counting on it.”

You pull him on top of you, comfortable letting him take the lead this time. His nails dig into your skin almost immediately but you welcome the sensation as it distracts you from everything else. He’d never admit he was doing it to help you if you asked, but you’re okay with that; so long as he continues.

“Can I borrow the magician for a moment?”

Hisoka just manages to stop you from jumping Chrollo and strangling him by planting a firm hand on your stomach, keeping you in place. He’s not happy either, but he has more control than you, probably a result of working with these people for a few years now. Clearly, nobody here knows the meaning of privacy.

“If you’re wondering if he told me, he did. And I’m inclined to agree,” you say through gritted teeth. You really hope you’re not going to spend any time with him during the month you’re on the team.

“Oh, fantastic! I knew I could count on Hisoka to put in a good word for me.”

“He didn’t,” you deadpan. “I’m not doing this because I suddenly like you.” Hisoka pinches you, asking you to shut up. You do your best to bite back your tongue without making any promises.

His demeanour changes. “There’s still time. But I’ll leave you two alone for now.”

He leaves, but despite Hisoka’s best efforts to get you going again, you’re not in the mood anymore. He scrutinises you with his gaze, trying to figure out how to break you away from the faraway look in your eyes. You’re not here with him and he can’t see what you’re thinking about.

  
  
  


_ You’d passed the exam. You’d managed to keep your Nen in check throughout it. A lot of agencies were willing to hire you given your skills, good and bad, but you’d chosen to return home first. You wanted to see your family, to tell them the good news. _

_ You’d come home to a village burnt to the ground, bodies of women and children and men abandoned and left to rot, an aura of Malice still lingering in the air.  _

_ Your elder sister, the one who had raised you from days before you could walk, had had every bone in her body broken, neck twisted and snapped. You had to bury her, touch her cold skin, throw dirt on her delicate features. You, the one who had left home to ensure her a better future, had not been there to protect her. You had lost a battle you didn’t know you were playing. _

_ You didn’t know what it meant to mourn before then. You hadn’t known death could be so persistent. You didn’t know a lot of things, then, except for one. You had a family you had to avenge, not caring how long it would take you. _

_ Years spent gathering information, torturing locations out of people, threats you definitely would follow through on and you finally had a name. The Phantom Troupe were known to many, and now that they were known to you, you swore vengeance. _

_ You would cut off the Spider’s limbs one by one if you had to. _

  
  
  


“I was going to kill you, but I chose not to when I found this.” You reach up his shirt and pull on the fake skin that holds his spider tattoo. You’d felt it out last time and you’d come to the conclusion that he hadn’t been there when your sister had been beaten and broken.

“But the rest of them were there. The rest of them do not deserve my forgiveness.” You look at him. “Why are you here?”

“I want to be the one to kill Chrollo. He bodes a fun challenge for me.”

You scoff with a smile. Of course he has no serious goal, why would he? He’s a trickster, a man of mind games and rule-breaking. “Right, well, he’s all yours. They’re all yours. I can’t beat them anyway.”

“I told you, when you hold back-”

“I’ll stay here for the time you’re gone. I’ll work with them, but after that, I’m gone. And you’ll never find me again,” you whisper, begging him to leave with your eyes. He graciously takes the hint, leaving behind only the Joker card.

Once again you find yourself in an unfavourable predicament, and could it have been helped, you would not have told even Hisoka. Keeping secrets has always been something you pride yourself on, but he seems to drag everything out of you before you can even notice.

You don’t trust yourself around him. So what if you’ve come so close to killing them, killing their leader? You know you’ll never be able to go through with it now that they’ve seen your face, seen your wings. The element of surprise was something you sorely needed to finish them off and now you don’t even have that.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, taking the Joker hand in your fingers, stroking it gently.

All this started because you chased after a man with an ego bigger than your own thinking you could easily take him on, and yet, somehow, even though he hadn’t been by your side for weeks, you’d grown a soft spot for him, and him for you.

It’s irrational in every sense of the word. And so you have to give up on the two of you, on him. It was a broken relationship from the very start, and you can barely even call it a relationship. You wish you could kill every single last one of them, but you can’t, so you’ll accept your failure — there isn’t anything more you can do now.

Your heart is loud in your ears. All those years wasted. Her death never to be avenged. You’d grown weaker the longer it had taken you, and now you were trapped. You’re out of moves and your opponent has just called ‘checkmate’.

You send the Joker card up in flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wait a minute... did i put PLOT in this chapter? and backstory? no fricking way, except, yes way; wow and to think we started out with a two-shot i wrote just to get some hisoka smut done


	3. A Silver Platter

* * *

The sea laps at the cliffside threateningly. Your eyes remain closed as you move with the wind, waves thundering in your eyes the lower you go, catching yourself just at the last minute and flying back on, landing on the very edge of the cliff, rocking falling down beneath your feet.

Your time with the Phantom Troupe ended some time ago; the moment Hisoka’s exam had ended you were out the door. You’d killed, you’d stolen — none of these things relatively new to you, but doing it for Him felt like cutting out your heart every time you followed an order. You couldn’t stop the bleeding until you left.

You’ve gotten a better grip on just how far you’re able to push your Nen these days. Before, flying for long periods of time was out of the question, but now you can use your wings for more than an offensive attack. The possibilities Whale Island has granted you are seemingly endless, and you’ve yet to make use of some of them.

You gather your belongings from the groove in one of the trees, the sun nearly all the way up. You want to stop off at the marketplace today before heading to work. Boring, right? Yeah, it is, but it’s  _ normal _ . To give up on things like revenge took you a while, and though it still plagues you sometimes, you repress those thoughts as far down as they’ll go.

You can’t help thinking about the person you were before, someone looking for a fight just to draw blood. That, unfortunately, is not a part of yourself you’re capable of ridding yourself off, the one made up entirely of bloodlust. Your hand tightens around your bag but you stay strong, putting one foot in front of the other. 

You catch the card aiming for your head with ease, taking a glance at its pattern. Four of Diamonds.  _ How nice of him to remember. _

“Go fuck yourself,” you say, throwing it back with an equal amount of force.

You’d managed to avoid him for so long and he was finally showing up now? You weren’t having it, not today. 

“As much fun as that is, it’s so much better with you.” Yeah, you walked right into that one.

You face him. His former pink and purple hair is a flaming red now, skin pale as ever, body toned. It feels like you’re back at the Arena again, those honey eyes glinting at you as the fight ends, your heart fluttering with uncertainty.

“When did you figure out where I was?”

“About a week ago I threatened the right person into giving me your location. I figured I’d watch you for a while before I made my move,” he says, walking up close to you. His palm takes its place upon the left side of your chest. “Irregular as always.”

Your wings deploy. “I’ll kill you if you don’t leave.”

“Are they bigger?” he asks, taking a good look, moving around you in a circle. He has no fear of being burned, no fear of you. Do you even intrigue him like you used to? 

You have to keep a level head right now. If you so much as say the wrong thing, he won’t leave you alone, pestering you until you give in to what he wants so badly. In the time you spent with the Phantom Troupe, Machi told you that much about Hisoka and his advances, having dealt with them first-hand.

“I had the time and the drive necessary to train them.” You walk on, putting them away and refusing to answer any more of his questions. Still, the persistent type that he is, he walks beside you, staring at you, hoping it will make you talk. It frustrates you, yes, but you clench your jaw and hold your head high.

You wonder why he stops suddenly before you feel your body lurch backwards and, using  _ Gyo _ , you find he managed to latch his Bungee Gum onto you, probably when he was exploring your wings.

Time has done nothing to the tension between the two of you. That power play he introduced you to, the unfinished business left behind, the ache of desire; it all hits you like a freight train. Why, why, why  _ you?  _

His lips find yours before you can stop them and your hand tightens in his shirt the harder he pushes. Tears burn behind your eyes as you fight off these unwanted feelings and you force him away from you.

“Hisoka… Please,” you choke out, looking at him with glassy eyes. “Let me give up.”

“Give up? You?” You were the one who chased after him, you were the one to draw him in, you were the one to match his fire.

Put simply, you were the one.

But now you can’t find it in you to chase after him, you can’t draw him in, you can’t match his fire. You’re all but ashes, withered and dying, hoping for just a little bit of peace before you pass away.

“I don’t want to want this. I can’t be dependent on someone else anymore.”

One more thing hits you then, and it’s far heavier than a freight train: you’re equating his life to your sister’s. How? How could a man like him ever mean as much to you as a woman like her? Not a single similarity between them apart from the fact that they both care for you.

Oh.  _ Oh _ .

You’re hot all over, riled up from the conversation you’ve had with yourself. You feel like throwing up, skin prickling, throat sore and dry. When he wasn’t here, it was fine,  _ you  _ were fine, because it’s easy to say you’re over someone when you’re not seeing them. The challenge is to look them in the eyes, to see them smile, to hear their voice and still be able to say you don’t need them anymore.

“That burns. Stop.” You remove his hands from your face, not having realised he’d place them there earlier, and you see just how much pain you’ve caused him, those tears in your eyes forming faster.

You need him. You need him, you need him, you need him.

“I need you. Kiss me, kill me, hurt me, please me — I’ll still need you. And, I hope, you’ll still need me.”

Nothing about what happens next is violent. He takes his time kissing you, feeling out every inch of your mouth. His hands roam the expanse of your back and at first, you’re fine, but then you remember the hidden change in your appearance, and it’s too late to stop him.

You don’t look at him as his fingers ghost two large scars, scars you made yourself in order for your wings to grow. It suddenly dawns on him what  _ ‘I had the drive necessary to train them’ _ entails.

Unlike most animals with wings, yours aren’t constantly present, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need something as basic as space in your back for them to develop. You’re still amazed you managed to pull it off.

“All this… for power?”

“I’d kill myself over and over to rid myself of weakness.”

“Wait until we take care of Chrollo at least, hm?”

The hairs on your skin prick at the mention of His name. You’d given up on revenge. You were letting yourself move on, to leave all of that behind. You don’t have it in you to kill him anymore, do you?

_ You tear the sleeve on his right arm to reveal his spider tattoo and clasp it firmly, burning the skin it’s attached too. If he cares about the group so much then you’ll leave him a permanent reminder of just how easily you refused a position from him. He doesn’t deserve to leave here unscathed. _

You glance down at your open palms, at the raw power they now hold. Of course you haven’t given up on revenge, not when someone lays it out on a silver platter right in front of you. A switch flips in the back of your mind and suddenly the person you tried so hard to bury is crawling out of their grave.

He takes pride in the fire in your eyes. “You have a plan, I assume?” you ask.

“Plenty. But those will come later.”

The scars on your back hit the nearest tree faster than you expect, and from that point, it’s a race. You’re both too proud to beg, to lose, so everything about this is a competition. Revenge isn’t the only thing you apparently haven’t been able to rid yourself of.

It’s a curse that he wears all those layers, and there’s no way he doesn’t do it on purpose. But, fickle as they are, muscle memory helps you through taking them off, making it 1-0 to you.

“Sinful,” he whispers in your ear, lifting your shirt up over your head, hand tangling in your hair, forcing you to expose your neck. Slow, almost gentle pace… he’s not playing to win. He’s playing to mark.

_ He’s not the only one who can _ , you think, breaking the skin on his lips before he can pull away.

That doesn’t do much to deter him; it just quickens his heartbeat, forcing you further into the rough bark. The blood from his lips stays where his mouth goes on your neck and collarbone, a perfect picture of red in his eyes. You’ve gone and done it now, feeding his ego like that.

His fingers move swiftly from your waist and slip between your thighs, his touch something you’ve missed greatly. You’re incredibly turned on, and if his reaction to how slick his fingers become so quickly is anything to go by, your body is mimicking that feeling in a physical manner.

He’s taking his time to slowly pull you apart, like a present that’s been waiting to be unwrapped for years now. With his mouth on your chest and hand in your pants, he’s busy, and you use the opportunity to reach down and put your own hand to good use.

“Excited to see me?” you ask, breathless.

He grabs your wrist and pulls it away, taking you and your boldness in. “Who wouldn’t be?”

You wrangle your hand free and pull down on the last of the material he’s wearing and he’s more than happy to reciprocate the action. All that man ever does is tease you.

“Remember how I told you that if you didn’t fuck me I’d fuck you? I hope you know I was serious about that,” you murmur, more than intending to keep your promise once you’re in the place to do so.

“Can’t wait.”

With that, he hooks his arm under your left knee and makes that very first thrust, the one that reminds you exactly why you can’t leave him behind. All of this, all his issues that he takes out on you, is enough to drive you crazy with lust.

A hand around your throat, a mouth on your breasts, an iron grip on your soft skin, your eyes looking further back than they can.

He moves his hips, you move yours. Fluid movements that take no thought set the pace, connected through your brokenness. Pleasure exists in pain, and he’s proved that time and time again. You try to force his hand to wrap around tighter but his response is even more diminishing.

Without slowing himself down, he pulls both of your wrists together, pointing up, and even without  _ Gyo  _ you know you can’t use your hands anymore, so you do what you can, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him flush against you.

_ Fuck me. Fuck me ‘til I’m broken and then keep going. _

And that breaking point is closer than you realise. Can you hold out? Just barely, but then the hand that was on your throat is now pressing into your clit, the circular motions so goddamn perfect.

You swallow each other’s moans when the tidal wave hits and suddenly his Bungee Gum no longer holds your arms up, letting you cup his face and keep on kissing him.

“How far away do you live?” he asks, breaking your contact, not looking as dishevelled as you in the slightest.

“Why?” you pant.

He thrusts once, making you shout in surprise. “Because I want to keep breaking you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's it ! we're done ! did not expect myself to actually go forward with this EVER but i did and i'm weirdly proud of myself ha. i don't really have more to say but go make yourself some tea and actually sleep for once okay ?

**Author's Note:**

> oh to be k!lled by chrollo
> 
> [my ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/erissapphic)


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